35 days to go.
Snow Days. Snow Days don't mean the same thing to me that they mean to other, normal, people who grew up in snowy, cold places. It snowed exactly three times that I remember in Arizona growing up.
Time One I was in second grade and living in the middle of nowhere Camp Verde (see http://butweremakinggoodtime.blogspot.com/2009/07/where-blacktop-ends.html). Our (potentially drunk?) school bus driver dropped those of us from the 'hood off at the end of the blacktop and wished us luck. She'd decided that it wasn't safe for the bus to take us in the snow on the dirt road home. Simultaneously she'd also decided that it was completely safe for six elementary school kids who'd never seen snow before to walk home a mile & change in said snow. Makes sense. Carry on. My guess is that most kids would love this - running and playing and catching snowflakes on their tongues a la It's A Wonderful Life or A Christmas Story. And for all I know, the rest of the neighborhood ran home hooting and hollering and making sand-infused snowballs to hurl around. All I remember is hating every single step of the interminably long walk home. It was cold. It was wet. It was dark. And as far as I knew - we'd never get home. Miserable.
Time Two was at the same house, somewhere around the 4th grade, and we had visitors from Australia in town. They more or less lost their ever-loving minds playing in the snow and scratching together enough for a snowman. Again - It was cold. It was wet. I was miserable.
(Please note the complete lack of any remaining snow on the ground and the abundance of Arizona sunshine in the photo...)
Time Three was in Wickenburg and I got tricked into some sort of "sledding" at school. Naturally we had only the finest and fanciest of sledding gear. Two words - cardboard boxes. I can not fully describe the ridiculousness of the scene. One truly has to experience sledding with cardboard on a half inch of barely sticking snow. Dodging the occasional cactus was the truly creative part.
Fast forward to this past weekend. We have easily a foot of snow on the ground (and on the cars and driveways and sidewalks) with temps in the single digits. It's cold. It's wet. I've just done my homeownerly duty and shoveled the sidewalks. I'm tempted to be miserable. What in the hell am I doing living in Colorado?
But wait - all the rules have changed. I don't have to go to school. No one's dragging me out to build snowmen. Shoveling aside, I don't have to go outside at all. It's the weekend and all I have to do is, well, nothing. Nothing. Can sit indoors, baking & cooking & drinking & planning a honeymoon with my honey. Now that, my dears, is more like it. I know some of you were out snowshoeing and skiing and whatever other torture you chose. But me? Nothing.
I say bring on more Snow Days - I've got some relaxing to do.
Amen sister!
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